


A Very SuperWhoLock Christmas

by TheoMiller



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crack, F/M, M/M, Multi, late Christmas present, sorry Morgz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 12:45:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheoMiller/pseuds/TheoMiller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>God drops by, Sam has antlers, Castiel is tipsy, Dean has rules, Gabriel is alive, Crowley has a kilt, Bobby does domestic, Sherlock is nice, John is drunk, Rose is cuddly, and the Doctor likes Christmas, which is an entirely inaccurate holiday. Oh, and there's a dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very SuperWhoLock Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VioletMasters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletMasters/gifts).



“I know just the place to spend Christmas this time,” The Doctor said excitedly. “There are these _brilliant_ people I want you to meet.”

Rose rolled her eyes and pulled down on the lever, then kicked the button on the bottom of the console. “This is our third Christmas in less than a week, Doctor. Don’t you ever get tired of Christmas?”

“I thought you said you loved Christmas!” He said, glancing at her festive antlers.

“I do. But you’ve had tons of Christmases—and I just know you do this every year.”

“Because I love Christmas. Humans are always so decent this time of year! Never mind that they’re actually celebrating a holiday where a group of aliens crash landed in Italy and turned to cannibalism to stay alive.”

“ _What_?” Rose asked, laughing. “No way!”

“Oh, yes way! Saturnalia was the first holiday to celebrate the winter around the end of December and to bring in pine boughs. Saturn, who was later considered a god, planned to use Earth as a glorified nursery. But when they crashed, he began eating his children. The native humans, who witnessed this through their limited worldview while they cared for the other children, were both horrified and awestruck.

“When Jupiter, his youngest son, rallied his brothers and sisters, they managed to kill him. The humans clung to them too much, so they built a craft and flew to Mount Olympus, where they ran out of fuel and figured it was as good a place as any to make their home. The humans worshiped them, and Saturn was considered a sun god, so they prayed to him to bring back the sun every winter when it got cold and dark.”

“You’re making that up!” She said.

“Am not!” He protested. “I was there. We could go there next, if you want.”

“Can’t we save them? The kids, I mean.”

“And ruin Christmas? Nah, it’s a fixed point.” He said, somewhat quieter. Then, “Allons-y, Rose Tyler! Let’s go meet the Winchesters.”

x-x-x-x

“That was the Doctor,” Sam said, closing his phone, when Dean returned to the Impala with lunch. “He wants to do Christmas with us this year.”

Castiel made a noise of interest as he took the burger from Dean. Even though he technically didn’t need to eat, he rather liked burgers and indulged in them occasionally, if only to have Dean feel he could give Cas something. “The Doctor and I have not seen each other for a good deal of time. Which regeneration is he on?”

“Ten,” Sam reported.

“Oh, thank God,” Dean said.

“They’re all the same person,” Castiel reproached. “Your dislike of all but Four, Nine, and Ten is rather ridiculous.”

“Eleven is _loud_ ,” He shrugged, “Hey, Samantha, here’s your salad,” He added.

“Did you get my milkshake?” Sam asked.

He pulled the peppermint mocha shake out of the bag and Sam grinned. These were his favourite part of the holidays, hands down. “See, _I_ always get your food, unlike _you_ when I send you out for pie.”

“Cake is totally the same thing as pie, and there was no way I was going out in a storm to bring you pie just so you could make Cas try it.”

“Sam, do you know which companion the Doctor has currently?” Castiel continued.

“Err… Rose, he called her,” Sam said. “I think this is the one he picked up in his ninth incarnation, after he tried to stop Balth from saving the Titanic.”

“Thank you.”

Dean turned in his seat. “Dude, what’s with the 20 Questions?”

“It was two,” Cas said, confused.

“Just—alright, why the _two_ questions?”

Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed. “Is there a question limit? You ask me a lot of questions. I have never perceived a pattern to the number of questions which humans—”

“He’s asking _why_ you’re asking what incarnation and companion.”

“Oh.” Castiel said shortly. “I am trying to ascertain how much he knows as of yet. Remember you cannot mention Amelia, Rory, or that business in New York. Nor the year he travelled alone.”

“We know the rules, dude. Don’t talk about when we’ve seen each other before, and don’t ask probing questions,” Dean said.

“Those rules are rather simplistic. Are you sure—”

Dean just _looked_ at him. “Cas.”

“Alright,” The angel sulked.

Sam looked in slight confusion at his salad. It was filled with his favourite greens, and even had crumbles of bacon, and all the ingredients were fresh. It might as well have been gourmet. A look at Dean’s burger told him the rest of the food there was just as greasy as any other fast food restaurant in the world.

“Jesus, Sammy, stop looking at that salad like it’s some big mystery and eat the damned thing,” Dean interrupted Sam’s thoughts.

He rolled his eyes and added the dressing.

x-x-x-x

“So…” John led hesitantly. “It’s the first Christmas since you came back.”

“We’re going to South Dakota,” Sherlock said.

“South _Dakota_?” John asked, and no his voice most certainly did not squeak in disbelief, he was not a small woodland animal. “Sherlock, you promised me no cases until after the holidays.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “It’s not for a case. You were about to suggest we do something ‘fun’ for the holidays. Well, an old… _friend_ of mine is going to be there.”

“In… South Dakota.”

“Yes,” Sherlock said. “Sioux Falls, to be precise.”

“Why?”

Sherlock answered casually while he looked at aeroplane tickets, “Well, because he was recently pulled out of Hell by the new King of Hell, who happens to be an old flame of his, and that was where he lived before the leviathans killed him and burned down his house. I am given to understand that Gabriel returned the house to its previous state.”

John stared at him for a very long time. Finally, “Uh, Sherlock?”

“John,” Sherlock huffed, but sat down to actually look his blogger in the eyes. “When I came back, you insisted on total honesty; well, this is it. Monsters are real. Some people hunt them. Angels and demons exist too—you’ll be meeting one of each, as a matter of fact. This associate… friend… of mine, Robert Singer, is a hunter who saved my life while I was on a case in Michigan, which turned out to be the work of a particularly nasty coven of witches.”

“You’re positive on this?” John asked.

The detective nodded.

“Alright,” He said. “Well. Um. Alright, then, America for Christmas it is.”

Sherlock’s mobile buzzed with a new text. “The Doctor’s coming too.”

“The Doctor? Doctor who? Is he some sort of hunter?”

He smirked. “You could say that. He’s an alien who changes his body. He travels throughout all of time and space in a blue box that’s bigger on the inside, and generally ends up saving the world—and other worlds—from certain death on a regular basis. Mycroft introduced me.”

John went to go make some tea while he waited for the feeling of utter insanity to pass.

x-x-x-x

“Come on, Bobby, let us in!” Sam yelled. “It’s freezing!”

The door swung open to reveal Crowley in a red satin dressing gown and well-tailored black pyjamas. “Stop yelling, Moose. Hello, idiot. Hello, angel,” He said as he stepped aside.

“Nice to see you too,” Dean grumbled. “Guess we won’t be giving you this bottle of very expensive Scottish whiskey,” He added, smirking as he held it up.

The demon snatched it and gave the liquor inside an experimental sniff. Then, “Ah, I’ve had worse.”

“Get in here, boys,” Bobby said gruffly, and then Sam practically barrelled into his side.

“I still can’t believe you’re alive!” Sam said. “I’m so sorry, Bobby.”

He rolled his eyes. “Get off me, son. I won’t be alive much longer if you crush my ribs.”

“I’m glad I was able to help you get back on your feet this time,” Castiel said.

“You took a few years off my body,” Bobby accused. “That your way of telling me I’m old, boy?”

Cas looked caught off guard. “I, uh, I mean…”

“Cas,” Dean said. “He’s joking.”

“ _Oh_.”

Dean laughed, and Castiel caught his warm green gaze with a small smile of his own. There was a pause, and then Dean shivered slightly and looked away. “Seriously, Bobby, stockings?” He said, pointing to the fireplace.

“They just showed up last night, actually,” Bobby said. “Crowley says there’s not a curse on ‘em, or anything wrong with the damned things at all.”

“They have our names on them,” Sam pointed out.

Dean took down the one labelled _Dean_ in flowing green script, then grinned. “Dude, there’s pie in here!” He said, and pulled out a plastic box with a slice of apple pie in it.

“It isn’t poisoned,” Castiel reported, sounding a bit surprised as he added, “And I have one as well.”

“Well, go on,” A new voice said.

Everyone spun around. Gabriel smirked. “Hey, Sammy, how’d you like your salad earlier?”

“You’re alive!” Cas said, and everyone else reached for a weapon while Crowley blinked out of existence.

“Relax,” Gabriel said. “I just got resurrected—merry friggin’ Christmas from Dad—so I figured I’d drop by to see you. Nice work on the apocalypse. I brought presents and everything, look!”

They were cut off by a loud _VWORP_ sound and the shuddering crash of a TARDIS landing rather suddenly. Castiel sighed. “The Doctor left the brakes on again.”

“Oh, hi! I’m not interrupting any fights, am I?” The Doctor asked as he swept in, beaming.

“Nah, I just startled them is all,” Gabriel said. “Long time no see.”

“Gabriel! Or Loki! Or something. What is it now?”

“Gabriel,” He said. “I’m out of hiding, since my dick brothers are all gone.”

Rose looked around, wide eyed. “Alright, names?” Before introductions could be made, Crowley reappeared right in front of her and she shoved him back. “Look, if you’re really some great supernatural creature, you can check the people around before you just teleport in wearing your pyjamas.”

“Ooh, a Londoner,” Crowley smirked. “Nice to meet you, human. I’m Crowley, the King of Hell.”

“I don’t care what you’re king of,” Rose retorted. "Watch where you teleport."

The room waited with bated breath. Then Crowley’s grin broadened and he offered her a glass. “Drink?”

“Please,” She said firmly, and then returned to the safety of the Doctor’s side. “Oh my god I just shoved the King of Hell!” She squealed.

He laughed and hugged her. “That’s my Rose.”

There was a knock at the door. “Robert Singer!” Someone else yelled.

“I’ll get it,” The Doctor said brightly. “That sounds like Sherlock.”

“Sherlock—like, Sherlock _Holmes_?” Rose said. “I’m so glad he’s here! I haven’t seen him since we dropped him off in the flat.”

“Wow, this place is depressing,” Gabriel rejoined, and waved a hand.

The entire room (and, upon later searching, the house) was covered with fresh pine garlands and holly and mistletoe. The scant Christmas tree was lit up with a deluge of rainbow lights and mirrored ornaments. Empty alcohol bottles and dirty dishes were teleported, clean, to the trash and cupboards respectively. Books neatened themselves up and the air started to smell like pine and cinnamon and peppermint instead of musty books and stale alcohol.

Everyone looked around to see Sam with huge felt moose antlers.

“Sorry, Sammykins. Couldn’t resist,” Gabriel said.

“Wow,” John said. “Um.”

“Need a drink?” Rose said, laughing. “Me too, mate. Any place we can get something that doesn’t taste like it’s going to burn its way through my stomach?” She added.

Gabriel snapped up a bottle of wine. “There’s a whole selection in the kitchen now, and the glasses are above the sink.”

“Thanks,” She said, taking the bottle.

John followed her, and then Dean threw up his hands and went with them to get himself a beer.

“Hello, Robert.” Sherlock said, nodding to the older man. “Hello, Doctor. You must be Sam.”

“Uh… Yeah, yeah I’m Sam.”

“My alcohol does not burn that much,” Crowley sulked.

Castiel glanced around and then made his way over to the Doctor and Gabriel, who were discussing the fantastic Yule and Saturnalia parties they’d been to over the years.

x-x-x-x

Two hours later, even Castiel and the Doctor were thoroughly tipsy.

“Hey, Dean!” Sammy said. “You’re under the mistletoe with Cas!”

Castiel looked up at the clump of berries, which may or may not have mysteriously appeared there courtesy of a certain fun-sized archangel. “I don’t understand,” He said.

“Oh, yeah, after that one time I killed Baldur but it didn’t stick, Freya made those into some sort of kissing plant,” Gabriel said. He’d had a bit too much Snickers flavoured vodka, which was of his own invention. “You have to kiss anyone you see under them.”

“And burn them before the New Year for good luck,” The Doctor piped up.

Dean looked somewhat panicked. “Uh, Cas, it’s really—”

The angel pushed him into the doorframe. “It’s tradition, Dean,” He reminded him before he closed the gap between them.

Even Crowley turned away after a moment. “ _Well_ then.”

“About damn time,” Bobby muttered.

Sam giggled. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Come on, come on, come oonnnn!” The Doctor said. “Presents!”

“You know, Jesus wasn’t born in December,” Castiel said.

“We know,” The whole room chorused.

Dean clapped Cas on the shoulder, still a bit pink in the face. “Dude, you’ve said it like five times since you started drinking.”

“Oh,” Castiel said. “Well, alright then. Is this the point at which we exchange gifts?”

“The Time Lord says as much,” Crowley agreed.

“Alright, alright,” John said, raising his glass of eggnog. “Can—can I just say something?”

Sherlock sighed. “Is there any way to stop you?”

“My best friend is _alive_. And, so what if there are monsters and aliens and nightmare creatures and Hell and—um. Anyway. The point is, you’re all here. You’re all together.”

Rose wrapped her arm around the Doctor’s and beamed up at him. He grinned broadly back and kissed her on the forehead. “Merry Christmas, Rose,” He murmured.

“And yeah, we’ve all been through Hell,” John paused. “Literally, heh.”

Dean raised his beer. “Got the t-shirt!”

“Afraid we don’t sell those anymore,” Crowley said. “They attract tourists.”

“I did not see any t-shirt shops in Hell,” Castiel whispered rather loudly, and Dean patted his leg to quiet him.

“But here we are celebrating… cannibalism, I guess. I dunno, I think I’m sloshed,” John finished.

“Here’s to bringing back the sun,” The Doctor said.

Everyone chorused in agreement, even if they were a bit confused.

Bobby raised his voice, “And to living as well as surviving.”

“Aye,” The Doctor said. “And death not being permanent. Like trees.”

“I think he called us trees, Sammy,” Dean said.

“You’re too short to be a tree,” Sam retorted.

Gabriel played with the tip of an antler. “You’ve got the branches for it, Samsquatch.”

John handed Sherlock a bundle of fabric wrapped in rather florid Santa Claus paper, which turned out to be a dark crimson scarf.

Sherlock turned to John. “I got you a present,” He said.

“Please tell me Molly helped you,” John said. “I don’t want another skull.”

Sam let out a surprised bark of laughter. “Skull?”

“To match the one I have,” Sherlock explained.

“That’s your skull, you know,” The Doctor said. “John, I mean. The skull that Sherlock keeps on the mantel. I gave it to him. It’s from the future—it’s your skull. I went back in time and gave it to him so he’d have someone to talk to until you came along.”

John took that in stride.

“That is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever heard,” Sam said.

“I appreciated it,” Sherlock said.

Sam groaned. “I lied. That’s the most terrifying thing.”

“It’s wearing a Santa hat,” John offered.

Sherlock handed John the box, which he opened hesitantly. Inside was a pine green jumper, made of soft knitted fabric. There was also a second matching sweater, small and oddly shaped. “Um…”

“It’ll fit the dog,” Sherlock mumbled.

“Dog?” John squeaked out.

“I deduced you’d had one as a child,” Sherlock said. “I thought a puppy might…”

John threw his arms around the detective’s neck and mumbled “shut up” into his bony shoulder.

“Here,” Bobby said, shoving awkwardly wrapped bundles into the hands of Sam, Dean, Crowley, Cas, and Sherlock.

“Oh, brilliant!” Sherlock said, holding the book out for John to see. “It’s a beekeeping book, John!”

“Most bees are aliens,” The Doctor said.

Rose turned to stare at him. “Really? Can we go to their home planet sometime? I saw the beekeeping gear in the TARDIS wardrobe…”

Crowley took the Christmas coloured kilt out of the wrappings and donned it with a snap of his fingers. “Nice legs,” Gabriel said appreciatively.

“Dude, are these the tapes that got ruined when we took down Dick?” Dean said excitedly.

“Sure is,” Bobby said.

Sam stared at the book in his hands like it was made of solid gold. It was the complete collection of T H White’s books, which he’d read as a kid in school and absolutely adored.

“Look, Dean, it’s a compendium of every single supernatural creature, its characteristics, and how to kill it, all in simple terms!” Castiel said. “I can become a hunter and this will help me keep you safe.”

“Fifteen years, that took me,” Bobby said.

“You could retire,” Sam said. “Dean reckons Garth is doing pretty well being you.”

“Robert Singer, retire? Might as well have Mrs. Hudson leave London,” Sherlock said.

Bobby shook his head, “That idjit is nowhere near ready to be me.”

“Robert,” Sherlock said, holding out a pristinely wrapped rectangular package. “Called in a few favours, and got this from the Vatican.”

“Great, something else to translate,” He grumbled when he read the title of the book.

Rose peered at it. “I can read that, if you’d like a hand. TARDIS translation circuit runs in my head.”

“Oh!” The Doctor said, and reached into his pockets to pull out a bunch of tiny boxes.

“TARDIS keys,” Rose added when they opened them. “The Doctor was telling me about all of you, and he said you guys did a lot of wandering and got in tons of danger, so I figured we could give you all a safe place.”

“Not even archangels can break down the TARDIS shields,” He beamed.

“They’ve tried?” Sherlock asked in surprise.

The Doctor shrugged. “Michael wasn’t too happy about me relocating the Nephilim. Tried to smite my ship, very rude of him.”

“I love you right now,” Gabriel said. “You ever need anything, let me know.”

“I’ve got everything I could ever want,” The Doctor told him, looking at Rose as she read the book to Bobby.

“Awww!” Sam said, voice squeaking somewhat. “You guys are adorable,” He said when Rose looked at him in confusion.

“Doctor,” Sherlock interrupted.

He turned, seizing on the moment. “Yes! Sherlock! My old friend, my brilliant, clever human friend! What’s up?”

“I modified the receiver on this, it ought to be able to reach you anywhere in the universe. It’s a chess game, so we can play even when you’re busy.”

“You gorgeous creature! I never have enough time to play chess with you anymore, now I can do it between saving the world and getting into trouble the next planet over!”

Castiel turned. “Sam, Dean, Bobby, Doctor, Rose. I have procured gifts for you as well.”

“Oh, um, thanks Cas…?” Rose said, taking the box he gave her.

“Dude, pie!” Dean said, showing Sam the contents of his box excitedly.

The other presents contained Bobby’s preferred liquor, a bunch of very fresh bananas for the Doctor, a new iPod for Sam, and a pink dress for Rose.

“Dean,” Sam said quietly, shoving a small package wrapped in newspaper into his brother’s hands. “Here.”

He opened it and stared at the necklace inside. “But…”

“It’s the same one. I, um, took it out of the trashcan when you left the room. I thought maybe you’d want it back someday. You can toss it again if you want, it’s just that I—” Sam was cut off by Dean throwing his arm around his neck.

“Thanks, Sammy.”

“Dean, would you like to show Sam our present now, or do you need a moment to regain control of your emotional response to his gift?” Cas rumbled.

With a glare at Cas, Dean shoved Sam towards the back room. “It’s in there.”

Hesitantly, Sam opened the door as everyone else watched in undisguised interest. A Great Dane puppy barrelled out and ran straight into Sam, letting out rasping barks. “But…”

“You better put a towel down when he’s in my Baby,” Dean warned.

Cas smiled in satisfaction. “She is mute but extremely intelligent and I’ve already spoken to her, so she will not disrupt your hunts or disturb your sleep.”

“That’s uncanny,” Gabriel said, looking between the already awkwardly tall dog and its new owner. He snapped a plaid flannel bandana and a pair of antlers onto the dog. “Look, now you can’t tell them apart!”

“Well, the dog is a girl,” John said.

“Exactly!” Dean crowed.

Ignoring him, Sam knelt down to pet her. “What should I call her?” He asked.

“Joanna Ellen Mary Jessica Madison Winchester?” Crowley joked.

“How about Morgan?” Rose offered. “I knew a girl named Morgan in primary school.”

“I like it,” Sam agreed.

The newly dubbed Morgan licked his face.

There was another knock at the door, despite the makings of a blizzard outside. Dean checked outside suspiciously, then opened the door. “ _Chuck_? I thought you were dead!”

“Merry Christmas, guys.” God said.

 _Fin_.


End file.
